Five poems – Sanjeev Sethi


Crispness of your cadence rips into the clishmaclaver. In

your vowels I cap my fulcrum. We’re the same fleece. In

warmth of whispers I freeze my words. Flambeau does us

in. My fireside isn’t fuelled as proteanism isn’t a part of my

portfolio. Love needs restraint. Hiraeth is a time-honored riff.

Lex talionis isn’t for us to spot. Someone else adjudicates it.


There is rarely a poem inked

from the champ’s perch.

No-one fucks a willing babe

and whistles in rhyme.

Verse is mostly the loser’s vent.


Incoherence are stratagems

of the articulate or,

those in emotional ache.

How does one say it?

Talk but not tell?


My buffet is bursting

with stock statements:

use them indiscreetly

unlike prophylactics

in the bazaar of needs.



Some poems are resolute

like ca-ca on a rough day.

You’ve  to be composed.

Invoke silence.

Breathe easy.

Cajole the process

A little force please.

Relief is the recompense.





Peculiarities of my post encourage me to engage

with the odd-lot. I love deeply and drop easily.

There are considerate folks out there. They

aren’t for me. Others twig they are for others.




People want to meet your profile: if utile dulci

they are all smiles and silly stuff, otherwise you

are you and they are they. I have no issue with it.

I’m no different.